


From The Fire Rose Stone, And From Beneath The Stone Came Ice

by hesperia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesperia/pseuds/hesperia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime meets Alayne Stone at The Eyrie, and finds his is quite intrigued by her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Fire Rose Stone, And From Beneath The Stone Came Ice

At the best of times, Jaime Lannister had never liked Petyr Baelish. As a guest in Lord Littlefinger's home, he despised the man even more. He spoke in riddles and always seemed to be laughing at a joke no one else understood. Jaime found he spent most of the time imagining running him through with a sword. The saving grace of his stay at The Eyrie, was Littlefinger's bastard daughter, and defacto Mistress of the Eyrie, Alayne.   
  
She was a pretty thing, with a sweet mouth and bright blue eyes, though her hair was a dullish brown that seemed to detract from her overall beauty. But she was beautiful, of that Jaime would not contest, and he often found himself sitting in her solar, a book open on his lap, though his eyes rarely made it to the words on the page.   
  
"Do you actually like the Eyrie?" he drolled, when boredom and curiosity had gotten the better of him. "It's rather dull around here."  
  
She looked up from her needlework. "Do you wish me to entertain you, Ser Jaime?" Her blue eyes were challening him, and for a moment Jaime had the deepest feeling he had seen that gaze before, but he brushed it off, amused by her question.  
  
"I guess that depends on your definition of entertainment." The statement was impertinent to say the least, but Alayne's mouth twitched only for a moment.   
  
Putting down her stitchery, she crossed the solar to where he was sitting, and reached for the book in his lap. "I could read to you," she said, eyes skimming over the pages of the book. "But this is a most boring book indeed."   
  
She walked over and put it back onto the shelf, her fingers skimming over the spines of other books until one finger stopped, and plucked the book from the shelf. "Perhaps this book would be of more interest to you. It is a collection of stories from Lys. A most..." she paused to bend down and place her mouth close to Jaime's ear, "...enthralling read."   
  
Her breath was hot against his skin, and from where she stood, bent beside him, he could see down into the neckline of her gown. Her breasts were full and round, a young woman's breasts that have not yet felt the affects of childbearing and rearing. The edge of her nipples were also visible, a rosy coral pink.   
  
"I rely wholy on your judgement, Lady Stone." He met her eyes again, and though on the surface he found only apathy, there was something beneath it, a spark, of what Jaime could not tell, but it was there, smoldering underneath.   
  
Her voice was even and steady as she began to read aloud the story of a Lyseni concubine. The tale was wrought with long passages of the concubine learning the art of pleasure, and Jaime's concentration was being thoroughly tested as he listened to the words on Alayne's lips, lips that he found himself wanting to taste. It had been a long time since he had looked at something,  _someone_ , other than his twin.  
  
He had never wanted anyone other than Cersei. She had always been enough for him, in truth she had been too much, even for him. She had been the first cunt he had ever stuck his cock in, and he remembered so clearly how she had bit down hard on his lip as he'd ripped her maidenhead.  _If I shall feel pain_ , she had said, licking at the droplets of blood that formed on his lip,  _so shall you._    
  
There were other beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms, Jaime was not blind to them, but none were as beautiful as Cersei, none as vicious, or daring, and none that loved him as much as she did, none that would  _ever_  love him as much as Cersei loved him.   
  
When she had married Robert, he had been disgusted at the thought that he would have to share her with such a man. A man who did not respect his sister, a man who didn't even like her, but they had endured it both. so many nights Cersei would tell him how horrible it was, to be with Robert, to have his cock inside of her.  _I only want you_ , she had said, her hips rolling above him, his cock buried inside her,  _I chose you the moment we were born._

She had chosen him until he had lost his hand, until he had become disillusioned by his role in this game of thrones. Until Cersei had found someone else to warm her bed, someone with two hands, and a mouth that would say only what she wanted to hear. In a way, Cersei had become just as obsessed with ruling the Seven Kingdoms as Aerys. It sickened him, to see her like that.   
  
"Do the escapades of even Lyseni whores bore you, Ser Jaime?" Alayne asked, and he looked up to see her staring at him, eyebrows raised. "You stopped paying attention quite awhile ago."   
  
Jaime licked his lips, and reached for his cup of wine, downing it in one fell swoop. "I find myself...preoccupied, Lady Stone."   
  
She shrugged her shoulders and closed the book, as she crossed in front of him to put the book back on the shelf, his left hand reached out and closed around her wrist, pulling her toward him. She stumbled, the book falling out of her hands and onto the floor as she fell forward, and landed against him.   
  
"Ser!" She pushed away from him, but he caught her around the waist with his right arm, his gold hand against the small of her back.   
  
"You're flushed, Lady Stone," Jaime teased, and he ran his hand along her cheek and down her neck, his fingers sliding in between the swell of her breasts that peeked above the neckline of her gown.   
  
"Unhand me, Ser Jaime. I shall inform my father of this most insidious behaviour!"   
  
Jaime raised an eyebrow, "And what shall he say when I tell him of the Lyseni whores you were reading about?"  
  
Her blue eyes were cold now, ice that cut deep into him. "It is my word against yours, Kingslayer." The word is bitter from her lips, and she uses it as the insult it was, not the nickname it had become.   
  
For that alone, Jaime pressed his mouth against hers, his left hand sliding into her hair to hold her head to his. She fought him at first, her hands pushing and scratching at his tunic, but he pushed his tongue through her lips and into her mouth and she didn't bite his tongue off. She opened her mouth wider. The hands that were pushing now pulled him closer, and she shifted over him, her legs going to either side of his lap.   
  
She is not Cersei, Jaime though, and he was grateful for it. She was something new, something yet to be discovered. She was tight skin, with sinewy muscle. She had curves just appearing on the horizon, and a strong pair of hips, hips that he could grab with his left hand, and push up against her, makes her feel his cock, hard through his breeches.   
  
Alayne whined high in her throat, and she pressed herself down on him, rubbing her cunt back and forth against him, though layers of clothing seemed to impede what she desired.   
  
"Pull up your skirts," Jaime commanded, his own hand working on the lacings of his breeches as she raised up on her knees to pull the layers of silk and wool around them. His breeches were open now, and his cock sprang free from them. He stroked himself several times, but there was no need, he was as hard as he had ever been, she had seen to that, and he reached up to find the heat of her.   
  
He pulled roughly at her smallclothes and she gasped when they ripped. With his fingers he searched along her thighs until he reached the apex of her thighs. He could feel soft downy hair covering her the top of her mound, but dircectly below it she was saturated, her wetness covering her cunt and the creases of her thighs.   
  
His fingers slipped easily over her, and she continued to move her hips back and forth, rubbing herself against his hand. He slipped two fingers into the tight yet yielding give of her cunt. She wasn't a maid, or perhaps she'd been an avid horse rider. He'd heard that Dothraki girls often lost their maidenhead long before they knew a man for the first time. Though Alayne Stone did not seem like she would be a rider, but it mattered little to him, his last experience with a maid had left him with a bloody, gnawed lip.   
  
His cock was achingly hard now, and the feel of her slick, tight walls around his fingers was not helping the situation. He needed to to be inside her, the sooner the better. She was breathing heavily now, and when he pulled his fingers from her to rub over her tiny nub, she moaned loudly, her fingers tightly gripping his shoulders.

He took himself in hand again, and rubbed the head of his cock along her cunt, slicking it with her wetness before pressing it up between her folds, as she sunk herself down onto him, enveloping him completely. It was Jaime's turn to moan, seven hells, it had been so long since he'd been inside Cersei that he had to hold her tight against him. The last thing he wanted was to spend himself inside her instantly, like a damn boy.  
  
"Let me see your teats," he groaned, his mouth on her neck, nipping at the soft white slope.   
  
Her fingers made quick work of the hooks and laces and her neckline drooped, her breasts now fully visible to him. He took one his left hand, squeezing it, feeling the weight of it. Her nipple was hard, and he dragged his thumb over it, around it, pinched it lightly between his thumb and forefinger. And then he dropped his head to lick over the taught peak, the flat of his tongue laving over it, again and again as Alayne whined and moaned.   
  
Wrapping his lips around her nipple, he suckled, pressing it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue. Alayne had started to buck against him, rising up and down on his cock, her cunt clenched around him. He thrust up into her easily, she was so slick from desire and he knew if he continued she would soon find her release.   
  
He dragged his mouth across her breasts, and found her other nipple, giving it the same ministrations as the first. His right arm was still around her, golden hand pressing against her back, and he slowly began to run it along her back, the tips of the fingers teasing her skin.   
  
Alayne's moans were becoming lower now, more gutteral and when Jaime's thumb dropped down to rub against her clit, she began to contract around him, her head thrown back, breasts raised. Watching her climax was a sight that Jaime found he liked very much, and it swelled him even harder, if that was possible at this point.   
  
He flipped her over, her back now against the seat of the chaise lounge, and pulled one of her legs up to rest against his chest and shoulder. He pushed in faster, his hips thrusting wildly against her until he finally felt the throbbing ache grow stronger, the pressure building in every muscle until his release came, hard and fast, and he pressed himself deep into Alayne, his face against her neck as his vision blurred and he filled her with his seed.   
  
He sat back on the end of the chaise, his chest heaving. Alayne still lay on the other end of the chaise, her skirts pulled up to her waist, her legs spread, one leg hanging on the chaise. She was quite a sight, and Jaime almost wished he'd spent the afternoon just tasting her because she looked so lovely. His thoughts stopped suddenly and he frowned, just noticing the soft curls on Alayne's mound her not brown or black like most dark haired girls, but bright red against her pale skin.   
  
A tightness suddenly seemed to squeeze in his chest, and he looked up to meet her gaze. To meet the clear, bright blue eyes that had haunted him since his arrival to the Vale. Alayne sat up, pushing her skirts down, her fingers tightening and lacing up the neck of her down.   
  
"Sansa?"  
  
Her hands froze, and she looked to him, her face suddenly as unreadable as her father's had always been. "Yes, Ser Jaime?"  
  
Her lack of denial hit him hard in the gut, and he could not help but feel despite his best efforts, he had simply replaced one ruthless woman for another.


End file.
